


When Lavenders Grow

by MilenaNightingale



Category: Suite Française (2015)
Genre: F/M, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 13:12:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17623013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilenaNightingale/pseuds/MilenaNightingale
Summary: A short alternative ending to the movie final :)





	When Lavenders Grow

_Love’s in my heart trying so to prove what your heart’s knowing._

_I’d’ pluck a finger on a thorn, I’d’ pluck a finger bleeding._

_Red is my heart wounded and forlorn and your heart needing_

 

_My heart is sore until it joins in song_

_Wi’ your heart mating…_

_-Demelza's song-_

The smell of lavender lied prominent in the air; the bees buzzed lazily from blossom to blossom, not being deterred by the woman who watched them closely. Lucile turned her head towards the sky, holding her straw hat with one of her hands while doing so. Her eyes squinted due the brightness ahead. A silent smile lingered on her lips like it always did at this time of the year.

She recalled their first true conversation in the garden of Madam Angellier’s estate. When she closed her eyes it almost felt as if he was here, at her side, enjoying the sunrays just as she did. Six long, lonesome years had passed since then.

After she had left him forlorn at that checkpoint, she had joined the French resistance with Benoit. A time that had left deep scars in her soul- probably more than the longing and pain she felt for the man whom she loved, did. During the time of resistance, it had been easier for her to deal with the emptiness his absence left in her heart… but now, after driving the Germans out and returning to this very place it felt as if she never had left…

Two weeks ago, she received a letter with the news. Her mother in law had passed away. Lucile thought she was one of those persons whom death would spare. As if they had a deal with the devil himself and would live forever. She moved away a little, towards the stairs. Who would have ever guessed that Mrs Angellier would bequeath the estate to the quiet, once obedient Lucile? They had never much in common. Whereas Mrs Angellier preferred to be domineering and relentless towards others, Lucile always had ben understanding and compassionate to the sorrows of their tenants. And yet, it touched her deeply to know that the woman had not forgotten her. That in some way Lucile had been in her thoughts.

Leisurely she took the stairs up which lead to the back entrance of the house, pausing for a brief moment as she passed the white lilac shrub behind which they had taken shelter from her mother in law; after a shared dance… Lucile chuckled as she remembered them huddling there and his words spoken half in jest, half in bewilderment:

_I’m supposed to be the one everyone is afraid of, but she could easily scare the plague away.*_

At those moments she had forgotten the war, the occupation- and the fact that he was enemy. At those moments they simply had been a man and a woman, bared to their very soul while their outer shells stood face to face without needing a word to say. Lucile entered the small parlour and paced to the hall. Her feet took her to the room upstairs with the piano on their own accord. She marvelled at the fact that nothing had been changed- being sure that Mrs Angellier would burn down the room to its root as soon as their unwanted guest left and then re-decorate it.

A lump formed in her throat, her chest suddenly became tight. Walking to the piano she raptly caressed the even wood. No, he was not dead. He had told her what would happen after the war:

_We will see each other again. Not as a soldier; you will not even recognize me…**_

Lucile could feel that he was alive, she always had. And soon they would meet again.

************

_“They felt a strange happiness, an urgent need to reveal_

_Their hearts to each other- the urgency of lovers,_

_Which is already a gift, the very first one,_

_The gift of the soul before the body surrenders._

_‘Know me, look at me. This is who I am._

_This is how I have lived, this is what I have loved._

_And you? What about you, my darling?’”_

_Irene Nemirovsky_

 

_ 3 month later  _

Lucile tried not to show the chagrin she felt. Not much had change in the village since she had left- old animosities remained. What she had done to gain the hate of the woman, she didn’t know. But the years and a war between seemed not have helped to quench the hostility Celine felt for her. The daughter of their former tenant had made her responsible for any ill deed of Mrs Angellier. Back then Lucile had tried to show her that she was different, but it had not taken too long for her to see, that Celine’s hate was directed to everyone with better circumstances.

With a loud thud she put the big bag full of groceries in the trunk of the car, while casting a random glance at the market place. She stood dead in her tracks as she noticed the tall man in the crowd. His hat was pulled deeply into his face, so that she couldn’t see him clearly. Lucile’s hands started to shake, looking to the right and left, she crossed the busy street hastily- but the man was gone.

It was not the first time that Lucile thought she saw him. Sometimes he was waiting for her in a crowd, sometimes he knocked on her door on a lonely night- and sometimes he was waiting for her sitting in front of her piano while playing Suite Francaise… But the cold truth hit her always soon enough. Her fragile fingers rested on her chest now, trying to calm her wild beating heart. Soon, soon he would come. 

'

He took a deep breath as his eyes roamed over the square. Was it really 6 years ago that he stood here at the small fountain where the soldiers used to cool themselves off? Even with a scorn and two bags of groceries in her hands she had been breath-taking… It had hurt whenever she ignored him or averted her gaze- as if he was not worth to be bestowed with her grace. It didn’t matter for him that it was true; that she was out of reach of his dirty hands.

And yet, he had dared to touch her and was Fortuna not a cruel playmate?- at first, she showed mercy for his soul just to banish him for years of yearning and thirst… Bruno didn’t know what was awaiting him; he didn’t even know if she waited for him. But strangely, the man had not doubted it even for the slightest moment.

After the day of their parting things had changed. His marriage had ended with a divorce; it had not been a gruesome incident. No- it had been freeing, not only for his heart but also for his soul. From that day on he had listened to the voice of his conscience. It didn’t take long for him to join a group of military plotters who were actively involved in a process of exchange with the resistance group in the Kreisau circle***.

Bruno closed his eyes, trying to shun the memories. It had ended in disaster and many who were involved in any of the groups or in the plot had been executed. Standing in trials which didn’t deserve the name, they fall one by one. His survival had been a miracle, yet he knew that he had done the right thing. The words he heard before the operation started, still resonated in his ears:

_I Know that he who will act will go down in German history as traitor; but he who can and does not, will be a traitor to his own conscience_ ****- and he had acted accordingly. In the darkest moments it had been her light that kept him sane; in moments of shame it was her soothing hands that eased his chest. Although miles away, she had been always at his side. And now he was only a ten-minute march away from her house.

Strangely, after coming all this way, this last parcel made his feet feel heavy- his heart burnt with delight and fear at the same time. Yet, he took the step, one by one until he finally stood at the very door, he once entered clueless to the events which would follow and the otherworldly being, which would enchant him for a lifetime.

Before he rung the bell, he saw the door opening, heard her voice calling for him and felt her arms wrapped around his tall frame. Bruno didn’t even hesitate as he bowed down to lift her up to his arms. He was home, back at the place where lavenders grew.

 

_The End_

 

* Quote from the movie; Bruno to Lucile as they hide in the garden from Mrs Angellier

**Quote from the movie; Bruno to Lucile at their parting at the mansion

***The “Kreisauer Kreis” was a civilian resistance group (1940-1944) which was concerned with the reorganization of the German Government after the end of the Nazi-Regime. Leading personalities were Graf von Moltke and Graf York von Wartenburg. After the arrestment of Graf von Moltke (who had warned his friend Kiep of an imminent arrestment) the group more or less dissolved and many members of the Kreisauer Kreis joined the group around Claus Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg. One more thing which I would like mention is that I am aware of the voices who are gazing the military resistance groups during the war with a sceptical eye; the motives of the group around Stauffenberg were prone to many controversies but I think, these disputes can be left undetermined when it comes to stories like this :)

****Graf von Stauffenberg


End file.
